Carlos and Kestlie have come over to Melissa’s. I am with Melissa, and I think we’ve walked out to meet with them. We are walking back along the sidewalk and Kestlie is talking about tattoos.
This is another dream I saved. Unknown date, but another memorable one for me. I write fanfiction and this was one where I was my actual FF character, not myself. My friend was the daughter of my favorite wrestler, Jon Moxley. Jon was taking us out to see Las Vegas, and he was being really nice to me because apparently I was homesick. My friend 'Gabby' was mad because she thought he liked me more than her. He explained "No, she just doesn't have anyone to love her like i love you." So he had to go to the stadium for his match, and we had to get a ride with Brock Lesnar. He had a pickup truck and he had all these other wrestlers in the cab and so he let us sit in the bed of the truck. We turned on 'Me Too' by Meghan Trainor and he started singing and dancing with us (which, if you know Brock Lesnar, looked pretty ridiculous). He took us to Subway (which doubled as a tattoo studio) and Gabby wanted a violin tattoo. The kid didn't know what a violin was so he offered to make her a sandwich instead. I was trying to get my new tattoo and i forgot the word 'dog' and was trying to explain to him i wanted my dogs paw print and I never got it because I couldn't explain what I wanted.
I'm standing in a large hotel room. It must be a suite because there's multiple rooms. I'm in the center of the sitting room, maybe. I'm wearing jeans, but I'm not wearing a shirt or bra and I'm not ashamed or trying to cover myself up in any way. A man is standing behind me, touching and examining my back. He asks me what I want to be done about it. I tell him that if there's anything he thinks he can do, to please do it. I then start telling him about how I got my tattoo. And I tell him about how it looks nothing like the art I originally wanted, that my dad completely fucked up and did a horrible job. He hummed in agreement and said that he was sure he could fix it. He then walked to stand in front of me and said that we should get started. I smiled and nodded happily. The man smiled back.
I've been an extremely lazy dreamer lately so there hasn't been much to write about, but this dream occurred the other night after creating my character for Dragon Age: Inquisition. The appearance editor was so detailed that I ended up spending almost three hours designing my character's face! So the "make-up artist" theme of this dream was obviously day residue, but toward the end it became a little stranger. I was a make-up artist, and a client came to me to have her rouge re-applied. She had attempted to do it herself but it hadn't been going well. She had chosen a very dark wine-red, and I started by trying to apply symmetrical circles of it on her cheekbones, that I planned to blend in later. I, too, was having trouble placing them symmetrically, and had to keep daubing on new circles. The young woman looked very different from when last I'd seen her. Normally she came to me once a week; how long had it been since we'd seen each other? I remembered that our schedules had been at variance for a couple weeks, and last week she had planned to come but I'd had to cancel, so we must have missed three appointments altogether. That meant I hadn't seen her in a month, and apparently during that time she had transformed her whole appearance. I had noticed some red scaly patches on her skin and diplomatically refrained commenting on them. I was glad of my tact when I realized they were a tattoo! Two lines ran from the back of her neck over the rim of her skull on both sides and down her face in a V-shape, down her forehead, skirting her eyes, and then down her cheeks to meet at a point on her chin. "How did they do the texture?" I asked, genuinely impressed, as I ran my fingers gently over the tattooed skin, impressed how life-like the crocodile-skin pattern was, how red and shiny and raised in individually structured squares. I thought I remembered reading something about this technique, about how the ridges of raised skin had to be individually sewn into shape until they set. I was dissatisfied with the outcome of my attempts to apply the blush and moistened a cloth to wipe it all off and start over. I realized that the color was wrong. I explained that the wine-red she had chosen was a good color for one in the peak of health, but she was under a lot of fatigue and needed to choose something more subtle for best effect. I had a sort of mauve that was way too bland and washed out, but decided finally on a softly muted orange-gold shade. Meanwhile I was only now noticing the full extent of the girl's new body modifications, and started asking about them. She explained that she had been trying out a new job in Portland, Oregon. That didn't surprise me at all, given her new look. Her reasons for going didn't sound like the best, though. She explained that a guy had started working at her company, and she had found him despicable, but then she thought she might try out being despicable too, so she was working a stint at his company, which was in Portland. I wasn't sure how long she thought this was going to last, but held my tongue and hoped for the best. But why would she get face tattoos for a job that probably wouldn't even last? It might not matter to her current employer, but it could make it hard to get hired somewhere else later. Attitudes about tattoos are becoming a lot more relaxed, but large face tattoos are still regarded as somewhat extreme. I noticed that in addition to the large lines of red scaly skin, there were two other smaller tattoos on her face in different colors that I hadn't noticed at first. "I can tell you've been to Portland," I commented obliquely, after she had finished her story. "How?" "It's the only place I've seen head piercings on a regular basis." I was deliberately choosing my words to describe an example of some extreme body-mod that she was not currently exhibiting, which was difficult because the longer I looked at her, the more modifications I saw. And even my attempt to be tactful by avoiding comment on her specific modifications backfired: at my words she promptly demonstrated that she had a head piercing as well, a thick chain threaded through two round holes in the crown of her skull. Hanging decoratively from the chain was an eight-ball. Had she been trepanned earlier, I wondered? If so then they only would have had to add a single extra hole to create the piercing. The rig looked very heavy, though. I remembered that pool balls were always a lot heavier than they looked. And why an eight-ball? Was she aware that it was a gang symbol in some places?
Updated 06-04-2015 at 10:09 PM by 34973
In my first dream, I was with a group of people doing the physicals for the military. We were stripped down to our boxers and it was raining outside. It was night time. I remember looking at the tattoo on my chest. Later in the dream, the place was in fact a hotel and an older lady and her daughter drove up. They were being rude but later the old lady started being flirty and she flashed me. Her left boob looked deflated and pretty fucked up. On my other dream, I was the leader at some sort of academy. We were studying when the class started to get loud. Then, some of the students threw stuff at me. I went back to my seat and on my backpack it said that I suck cock. The person next to me wrote it. It was Gayle Martinez. I told her I was going to write her up and the classed changed their attitude as I got the write up paper. An emergency came over the radio and a few people jumped out through the window to help. I followed and Nona Enza was on the parking lot. We had to go save a dog that was drowning. Xavier Hernandez got on a motorcycle and sped off. I got on my motorcycle and followed. We were on the road dodging traffic, following the river. I crashed and the bike flew off in one direction and me in the other. I was able to make it to the river and dove from 2 stories high into the dirty water. The dog seemed dead but it went underwater when I touched it. I kept swimming and two dogs emerged and grabbed onto a nearby pole. One of the dogs was my dog Ace.
Date: July 8, 2013 Bedtime routine: MILD & WBTB (I keep falling asleep during my WILD attempts, so I decided to forgo it tonight) Total sleep time: 6-7 broken hours of sleep, kept waking up and having a hard time going back to sleep (Damn you insomnia! ) Dream Dreamed I was doing a research study on how children turn out as adults if they slept in their parents bed for most of their childhood. The results indicated that these children grew up to need much more attention than other children, these children may also be more susceptible to drug and alcohol usage from lack of coping skills, and their parent's marriages failed early due to the lack of sex (I have no idea where this dream came from ). Frag Dreamed I had several tattoos covering my entire body but I had no memory of how they got there .
I'm only going to write from the point of lucidity on. I don't really remember before that too well. I look down at my hands and oh look, I have six fingers. What I want to know is how and why that seems to work every time. It just seems weird. Anyways, I become fixated on my hands. It would seem like my mind just does not want to achieve my main goals. As I am trying to get my sixth finger to feel sensation as this can sometimes lead to adding bigger and better limbs. I look up for a split second and when I look back down my hands are covered in those was-off pokemon tattoos. Maybe those darn sisters of mine snuck in when I wasn't looking. And some of my fingers are stuck together. This actually probably comes from a conversation my mom was having with my sister. Anyways I thought the fingers were cool but after awhile I decided that I would just tear the skin and separate them.No problem there. Then I decided I would take it a step further. This time I decided to remove an entire finger. First I have to break the bone, apparently my master separator does not go through bone. Luckily the bone broke cleanly and I tore off the skin. Turns out my hands don't have blood, but more like the guts from the little aliens in MIB. I woke up immediately afterwards. Apparently my brain thought I was taking a nap. Stupid brain. Oh well, I'll take what I can get.
I was at some large room that looked like a college classroom, the height layered seats all filled to the brim with students, I was in one of the seats closer to the floor where the teacher was. She talking and showing a presentation of sorts. It's about how perhaps if she convinced her mom to exercise her mom wouldn't of got leukemia, or died from it or something. I the pictures of her mother from healthy and mid-life, and then the images progressed fast with diminishing health and ended with white hair. I was preoccupied with this story going on but my attention was broken when the teacher called me to the front of the class. I wonder why she is beckoning me, but I climb sloppily through other students and then down the aisle section brake stairs anyways. As I'm still walking towards the right of the teachers desk, she starts talking to the students about me. She says "Does subliminal voices affect the subject like everyone else?" and then on the screen behind the teacher is a picture of my face and above my face is what the subliminal voices they're sending to my head is saying so the students know since they can't hear it when it's directed at me. I felt it trying to work but I kept mentally blocking it and shaking my head. The teacher seemed irritated that it didn't work on me, then she turned into a curly haired teenage boy with glasses. He got up and tackled me, I pushed back and successfully began to overpower him, then he resorted to a petty thing, he grabbed my glasses that of which appeared from nowhere, and he snapped them in half at the nose bridge, I couldn't believe he did this. I only have two pairs and my second pair appears, I quickly put them on and then I grab his pair off of his face and snap his in half as well. He has two more back ups that he runs for, but I get to them first and snap another, and pop out the lenses then stomp the glass of another and then I run out of the classroom. Its looks like the inside of the Titanic but with a black and white color scheme. There are workers walking around that I feel I shouldn't be spotted by for some reason, so I get into prone position and instead of crawling I slide like a hot-wheel behind the short wooden pillared second story railing. One of the workers spots me and I think she is going to come after me but she doesn't, she runs to another worker in fear, so get up and run around a few corners that leads me to this outdoorish breezeway with groups of slow walking people that I have to jog around to get past. There's all these fair like booth selling products. I pass the one booth and the guy stops me and says "you again?" (I guess apparently I got pierced by this guy at this booth before or something) He motions me to come into the booth which has like Arabian carpets for a roof cover instead of tarp or plastic. I ask what I got pierced by him, I can't remember. He doesn't tell me. He say's "oh look you got new tattoos since then", I look at where he pointed and the tattoo I got was now repeated on my arm three times and I say "What? who would do that?!" and some tattoo artist laughs and says "it's going to keep multiplying".
General Information Date: May 12th, 2012 Amount of Remembered Dreams: 1 Amount of SPP (Special Psychiatric Phenominons) Lucid Dreams, Out of Body Experiences): 0 Fragmented Dreams: 1 Complete Dreams: 0 False-Awakenings: 0 Dream Information Fragmented or Full: Fragmented Lucid: No Nightmare: No Recognizable Characters or Items: Myself Superhuman/natural actions or events occuring: None Overall Dream Summary: In the dream I was in some sort of hotel-mall complex and mainly I was getting tattoos. The first tattoo had pink and red hearts along with black x's and o's and numbers. The second one was I wanted to get was a Gemini symbol that said divinity but the tattooist either didn't want to give it to me or something. Mainly that was the dream, I believe some other things occured.
I was on the streets with these two chicks, and one random guy. The girls seemed to know me, but the guy seemed like he was just there and was wanting to show off the way a lot of guys do around hot women. One of the women said "I bet I can guess with one word what each tattoo of yours represents." I told her to go for it. She started listing them off, since I have thirteen tattoos, I'll leave out all that she said since it took a while. When I told her she was wrong on all of them, the other girl said she wanted to try, so I told her to go for it. Again she was way off, and seemed like she was just wanting to touch me instead of guess my tattoos. But I was more than fine with that. The guy butted in, which already pissed me off, but then he went straight for my question mark tattoo, which takes up half my rear forearm, and said "well this guy was a fucking idiot anyways." And before he could say anything else, I put him in a headlock, took him to the ground face first and started slamming his face into the street until there was nothing left of his face. Afterward, I stood up, walked up to the two women, who looked humored instead of shocked, and I showed them each of my tattoos and told them with one word what each of them actually means.
i went to a party that lasted three days but i didn't remember any of it. from what the other partygoers told me, i got around. and i got a tattoo. it was a cheetah on my back. my mom came and picked me up and was just like, "whatever"
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